No need to panic

I was sitting at my desk the other day and I overheard the boys playing with their legos in the next room.  They were playing wedding.  I thought that might be a bit girly until the conversation took a decided turn.

Baby A:  You have the bride?  That’s the girl, you know.

Baby C:  What’s the boy’s name that gets married?

Baby A:  It’s a grime.

Baby C:  Okay, let’s do the checklist.  Cupcakes, jelly beans, doughnuts?

Baby A:  Check.

Baby C:  Punch?

Baby A: Check.

Baby C:  Light sabers?  Grenades?  Machine guns?  (Where is this wedding occuring?  Tehran?)

Baby A:  Check.

15 minutes later, the bride and grime are dead, the wedding hall is blown to pieces and bits of lego bodies are strewn across the room.  The boys announce this is now a crime scene investigation and all causes of my concern have drifted, carried away on the sound of exploding bombs coming from beyond the bedroom door.

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